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Monday, May 21, 2018

fms April 2018

We are proud that we are ramblers. We can speak, and receive, the unconnected and the unaccompanied.

Hold on boss! Let me consult the thesaurus.

Do it on your mobile.

Wanderer. Roamer. Itinerant. Wayfarer. Drifter. Voyager. Vagabond.

So Mr. Proud, are you suggesting these are quirks and spins in thoughts, both yours and mine?

Nothing is straight and continuous?

Sure, for a moment or two. And then they flow. As clamour. As uproar. As silence. As frozen. As delirium. As mourning. As rage. As joy. As lethargy. As radiance. As spark. And the thrilling thing is, they are simultaneous, as well as out of sync with one another.

Like my laughter clashing with your moan. Like my desire for the dark entangling with your fears.

That’s very poetic. But it’s a digression. We’re trying to think here.

Oh dear. Really? About what?

What do you mean ‘about what’? It’s clear. How do we know we are with each other in thought? For example, when we are in friendship, it gets expressed through words. But our sense of connection and companionship blurs when we try to think of ourselves in thought with one another.

I see the problem. Where emotion is clearly demarcated — e.g., he burst out, or she rejoiced — there the thought-speech connect is legible. But readings get determined by the expressed emotion, and thought recedes.

To me the problem is — When do we become aware of the qualities of our life forces? And by that I mean, together, with each other.

Often when someone is telling me something on the phone I find there is, one, a sense of urgency, two, a clear analysis of the immediate occurrence that delimits life at that point, and three, an astonishment.

This must hold for all.
Urgency /
Clarity on the immediate /
Astonishment.

There’s another thing — Sometimes in a formation, these three happen together. And by that I mean together, between many, with each other. I have seen this. Something flows. It’s momentary, and it can also happen over time. It dissolves many hesitations.

It’s a rejuvenation. An astonishment alerts and affirms that it is in us, it is in you, it is in all.

The twin whips of tension and torture keep attacking this radiance. It’s tough!

Tough! Why? Almost everyday I stand amidst thousands and see this paper carried by a wave. I sense a radiance. It comes near through words, but scattered, as fragments.

Yes, I run into you in different places in a month. It feels nice. And I read the paper, and sense language tussling to make space and make words for this wave, this radiance.

We are proud that we are ramblers. Everyone and all are ramblers. There is a churning all around.